The END
by Chameleon2
Summary: The final day has come...and gone. Who won is unclear, who survived is another question. Those who are still alive try to find reasons to live on.


Sakurazukamori Seishiro lifted his head, breathing in deeply

Okay, here is my first X fanfiction. I don't know anything about Tokyo, so forgive me for making up places and situations that are impossible. Also, I'm not English, so maybe there are some mistakes in the language. Sorry. Hope you'll enjoy my fic anyway. It's pretty dark though, so…be careful. Everybody belongs to CLAMP, no infringement meant…etc, etc. Please R&R!

Chameleon Chameleon@freeler.nl

**END**

Prologue

Sakurazukamori Seishirou lifted his head, breathing in deeply. As usual, sakura petals drifted around him in the non-existing breeze, then fell on his shoulders and on the heaving back of the person half-kneeling, half-lying in front of him. Seishirou paid him no attention, knowing the other was unable to pose a threat for the moment. It was the Perfect Moment. He felt like lighting a cigarette, and, after a quick thought and a shake of his shoulders, did so. The smoke mingled with the dust in the air.

He was standing on top of a half-collapsed building, he and that other person, and he had a perfect view of the rest of the place where once one of the strongest kekkais had stood. To the right of him there had been a battle between water and fire, but it seemed to have ended now. Below him, two figures were fighting, one with a sword, the other with what looked like… scarves. He recognized Nataku and the girl from Ise, and decided that she was winning. He could not see depth very well with his single eye, but it appeared the creature was stumbling, one hand pulled close to its body; as it moved, dark red spluttered on the rubble. He was surprised the Kansai boy was not with her—he usually hung around her as if glued to her side—until he made out a crumpled shape under a piece of debris quite near the girl. So he had stayed with her until the end. Touching. He exhaled a lungful of smoke, smiling happily. They were all here, dead or alive, and it seemed this was the final battle. Not quite so near two huge power fields interacted; that had to be an inter-Kamui-fight. He chuckled, wondering who would win. The Kamui of the dragons of earth was older, colder, with an understanding of his power born when his personality shifted. It was likely he would win. The younger Kamui was inexperienced, traumatized, weak even, but that had not kept him from surviving this long, and his jumbled feelings of hate mixed with compassion were a potent source of power. He was a lot like Subaru.

Seishirou tipped ash from his cigarette and looked down on the slight, half-conscious figure in front of him. Subaru, head of the Sumeragi clan, was defeated. He bled from numerous cuts, one on his forehead painted half of his face crimson. As he stood still and listened, Seishirou could hear the young man's rasping pants for air above the rumbling of the earth and collapsing flats, the screaming, far down below, of the dying and fleeing people, the crackles of power coming from the fight in the sky.

"So this is the end, Subaru-kun." The Onmyouji did not respond, but his eyes rolled up, even as his head remained bowed, to look at the Sakurazukamori. His right eye was a mirror of Seishirou's, or would be, if he were allowed to live. Now the white was stained with red, and the dust made it tear viciously. The other eye, however, was steady and calm as usual. There was little chance of him saying something dramatic, and Seishirou nodded to himself. "Farewell, Subaru-kun." He raised his right first into the air as he, with his left hand, gently took the younger man's shoulder to expose his chest, and he pressed him backwards, opening himself to the sakura tree…

"No, Sei-san,"

**a flash of a hand**

**a black tide of pure power**

the white of an ofuda

**screaming, screaming, screaming**!

Subaru threw his last defense with a whispered command. It was more a desperate attempt than an attack, and he did not think it would even buy him time, but when his sight flicked to the Sakurazukamori's face he saw to his disbelief that the man's mouth was hanging open, his pupil dilated, eyes unseeing. In earlier times, Subaru might have felt anxiety steeling down on him, not for himself but for Seishirou, the man he had loved and perhaps still loved. Now, the love did not weigh up against his understanding and the will to live. Without questioning 'why', he willed the ofuda into its usual bird form, made it attack. Paper wings flung it against its target's chest, paper claws and a paper beak, sharp as razors tore through an already tattered suit, reached flesh.

_What is wrong with him?_

**Screaming, screaming, a deafening cacophony of voices—no, one voice, made up from many voices. Screaming, screaming in his head, screaming away the power**

Seishirou snapped back to consciousness when the shikigami's claws scratched over his ribs. Without a thought he made the bird disappear, shaking his head to clear the humming in his ears. 

_What…?_

The sound was gone, leaving only echoes. He was still standing, hunched over with one hand against his side, the other outstretched in command. Shreds of paper clung between his fingers. When he moved, a sharp pain shot through his side, and when he touched his shirt his fingers came away wet. His gaze went to Subaru, huddled in front of him with his arm held tightly to his chest with his elbow—yes, he broke that with his second attack—and half a dozen slightly stained ofudas between his fingers. 

"What now, Seishirou-san?" his voice was hoarse but filled with suspicion. "More games? I thought you were tired of games. You said so when we met, this morning." Seishirou carefully kept his face devoid of emotions, but when he straightened up he had to bite his teeth to keep from wincing. He was _hurt_, he realized with what ordinarily would have been amusement, but now was not. The pain surprised him, but what truly worried him was how the bird could have gotten through to him. It was such a simple, weak attack—even at his weakest he could have easily disintegrated it, but…he had not even seen it coming. He had not even been there! Something was wrong. This could not be a backlash, not yet.

"No games," he replied with cold, smiling lips. It had to have been a spell, but not cast by Subaru; he was not experienced or daring enough to invent such a thing. "After all, our bet ended long ago." With a jump that belied his injury he pounced on Subaru, two fingers in front of his nose in the sign of the root, the other fanning out in a spell of death…

It was as if his head exploded.

Instead of trapping the younger man under his body, he merely unbalanced him and they crashed to the floor together.

"Nooo!" the Onmiyouji yelled, kicked Seishirou from him, rolled away from him. But the Sakurazukamori's spell dissipated into the dust, harmless. He was up in seconds, one hand pressed against his side, the other still held in a lazy sort of root position, but he did not try to resume his assault. For the first time, Sumeragi Subaru saw an expression different than pleasantness on Seishirou's face. Fear.

It was a strange feeling, to be afraid. Not an emotion that could rule his thoughts, but strong enough to make him consider his position. As soon as he released the power the screaming subsided, but it made it impossible for him to use any form of spell. In other words, he was helpless. He almost laughed out loud at that. Helpless! He, Sakurazukamori! But with all his vanity and self-confidence, Seishirou knew when to retreat. His self-preservation was stronger than his pride, no matter how bad it tasted to swallow it now. Even without his powers he might be stronger than Subaru—he was heavier, older, more experienced—but not now. The shiki probably snapped his rib with that stupid little attack—stupid, stupid! Without thinking he held out his hand for the spirit-hawk

**screaming, _screaming_**

and he stumbled, slammed down hard on his knees, frantically breaking the link with the tree. Even it's gentle query for blood was drowned in the howling voice, and it rendered him worse than weak. It made him uncertain. 

"Seishirou-san?" In the ashen expressionless ness of his face, Seishirou's single brown eye burned with something Subaru could not place. Despite all that had happened, he still hesitated, the ofudas quivering between his fingers. What was the man up to? Why did he not finish him off? Why…

"Something seems to have broken up our meeting, Subaru-kun," the Sakurazukamori said slowly as he pushed himself up from the ground. He halted his movement for a moment to brush at his knees where his trousers had become dusty, a rather hopeless gesture since they were both completely grey with it, and began to move backwards.

"What?" Seishirou flashed him a grin that was, though crooked with pain, still as charming as ever. "Are you…you are running away?"

"My dear Subaru-kun, did I not tell you that a gentleman never runs?" A bit of blood dripped on his shoe when he moved, and his jaw tightened. Subaru could only gape.

_He IS running!_ he realized, and suddenly he felt it was wrong, that it should end now, here, that he could not live for one day longer without knowing who won, and he screamed, "NO, you won't! I won't let you go like this!"

"O yes," Seishirou said, "You most definitely will." The next moment he was gone. Not the steady, mysterious falling-apart-in-sakura-petals but a wild whirl of a reddish pink; all that Subaru grasped as he bounded forward was air.

"No! I refuse to let it end this way! Where are you! Reveal yourself and fight me, damn it! Fight me!" The answer did not come from within his kekkai, where Seishirou—already physical again, pressing his hands against his head—hid somewhere in the collapsed building, but from the air around it. Somebody was powering up, high above the rest, the whole city was shaking with it.

_Kamui…_He only had a second to feel his hair stand up with electricity before the flash came, blinding him completely with its light, then drowning his terrified shriek of denial in an all-consuming explosion. He was conscious long enough to feel it tear his shield apart, and for a moment he thought he could see Seishirou staring back at him, wide-eyed with shock, but then he was swept away and all that was left was silence.

1

Arashi awoke in stages. First she was aware, then she noticed that she _was_ aware, but it took her a long time before she finally really left sleep. Maybe, she thought, because all was calm and white in her dreams—because there were no dreams, only whiteness. She was a priestess, though, and she was trained to fight, if not with her body, then with her mind, and she was not doing a great job of it at the moment. Her eyes were difficult to open, almost as if her body had forgotten how to do it.

"But I can't have been out that long…" She started at her own, raspy voice, but immediately drew strength from it too. She could talk, and now her eyes were open she could see too. She was looking at a ceiling, at a crack in pale-yellow panels. "But the ceiling won't tell me anything," she chided herself. "Where am I? Is this a hospital? Where is…" It came back to her with a cracking pain in her head, and she shut her eyes with a moan. Sorata…dead. Nataku, dead. Yuuto? Yuzuriha, dead. What about the Sumeragi? Or Karen? Aoki? Kamui!? Before she was aware of it she was sitting straight up, ignoring the pain that blossomed in her back and her face, to search for faces…persons…

Her bed was the second of a long row in a severely crowded room. There must be more than a hundred people lying there, in various states of injury. There was a man next to her, with blonde hair and a bruised, swollen face; she did not know him. Next to him lay a black woman, and after her came a young girl with both her legs in casts hanging from the ceiling…then, she had to strain now, another man, and another, but nobody she knew, nobody at all…On the other side there was a second row of beds, and she squinted through the pain in her head, but saw none of her friends.__

_They are dead, all of them,_ she thought, sagging back into her pillow. _I am the only one left. The explosion…but how did I get here?_ Suddenly too tired to try to ask someone, she tried to think. Her memory was hazy from the point that Sorata died. She did not even know what had happened; Nataku probably cast some sort of spell for she remembered a blinding flash and then a jerk at one of her arms, a push, the rough sound of her breathing as she sat on the floor with bruised and scraped knees, Sorata's face, so very serious all of a sudden, and so white…

_He pushed me out of the way when Nataku made the wall collapse, and he could not save himself. He died for me, just as he wanted. And I always thought that he…that he was wasn't serious…or that it would be another he would die for in the end. Sora-chan…_She squeezed her eyes closed, not because she did not want to cry for him but because it was too early to cry now. First she had to know what had happened—if she began to grieve now, she would probably not stop until she died herself. _What happened? It must have been Kamui, causing that explosion. My shields cracked, I remember that. And falling…my face._ She touched her cheek, met only bandages. When she pressed a bit harder there was pain, but it was just as hazy as her thoughts. _They drugged me._ It probably was for the best anyway. The bandage ran all the way around her head, but left most of her hair free. Her other cheek was likewise swathed with cotton pads, but her nose was free. When she rubbed the bridge of her nose skin flaked off as if she had a bad case of sunburn. _It's probably worse than it seems now, but still not life-threateningly. So what happened after the explosion? I fell, yes, and there must have been someone who took me to this place…wait, there was somebody…somebody like us, but not a Seal. That big guy, what's his name. I knew him when I saw him, but now I can't remember his name. He must have saved me. But why? And where is he now?_

While she lay thinking, a soft movement made her bed squeak, causing her to open her eyes. A tired-looking man in a white coat looked from her chart to her, smiled reassuringly when he noticed she was awake.

"Good afternoon miss. How do you feel?"

"Hazy," Arashi replied truthfully. She hesitated, then asked for her friends. "A young boy with violet eyes called Kamui, and…no, she is dead…Kasumi Karen? She's a beautiful woman with jaw-length blonde hair…and Aoki? Somewhere in his mid-thirties, brown hair, brown eyes? Have you seen them somewhere?" The doctor shrugged helplessly.

"This hospital is packed, miss. There are a hundred young boys and men and women. Of most I don't even know the name. The explosion ruined half of the city—not to mention killed more than half of it."

"Half of the city…"Arashi whispered. He nodded.

"You were lucky to survive, and to be close enough to this place to get a bed."

"Where am I then?"

"Kamakura Hospital. But if you'll excuse me, I have…"

"Wait!" she struggled to grip his sleeve, and he stopped. "Please, try to remember. There is another one of my friends…please! His name is Sumeragi Subaru, and he has green eyes—one eye, actually—black hair, fair skin, about twenty-five years old. Someone must be alive! Someone has to be alive! It has to be!" She was crying now; the doctor awkwardly patted her shoulder.

"Sumeragi. I know the name, at least, it sounds familiar. I will look out for him, I promise. But I really have to go now. There is nothing more I can do. I will come back later."

"Thank you," Arashi mumbled. He disappeared, leaving her alone with her cloudy memories before she fell into a fitful sleep.

*

Seishirou sat on the black leather couch for a long time, resting, gathering his strength. He did not wonder about why he was still alive, or why it was that he could still fly when all his other abilities were blocked by the screaming of the tree. He simply sat, staring at the crater that had once been Tokyo, and silently thanked Hinoto for shielding this building. At least, he though it was Hinoto's kekkai. It could also be just a stroke of luck. Seishirou did not believe in luck.

When the explosion struck, all the successive kekkais the Seals had cast burst. Some sooner than others, which was why he was still alive and not a bloody heap on the pavement. Subaru's shield was the last one to break, trapping him there almost in the heart of the blast, until finally even the Onmyouji lost consciousness or died, and Seishirou had been able to make a run for it. If the tree had been screaming then, he could not remember, but it did not matter anyway. He was safe here, in this half-standing flat, in this apartment that had hardly suffered from the blow. Somewhere in the hall, somebody was moaning, but he paid it no attention. First it was time to do something about his own injuries.

_And then we'll have a look at you, my partner. See what is wrong with you._ He rose from the couch, wincing. On one side his shirt was soaked with blood, and although he was sure it was not a serious wound it was enough to disturb his usual equilibrium. _You really surprised me, Subaru-kun. You tend to do that more often—though usually in a more pleasant way._ A man lay groaning in the hall, buried beneath a heavy cupboard. Seishirou carefully walked around him in search for the bathroom. It was caved in, and he pursed his lips in annoyance. Retracing his steps, he tried the front door, opened it and walked into the corridor. The elevator door had cracked and lay in the middle of the corridor but the elevator still seemed to be hanging where it should be, and when he pushed the button a rattling hum proved that it was even working. He smiled, then turned and faced the front door of his new neighbour. Thankfully he did not have to kick it in; it fell out of its hinges when he only touched the handle.

As he entered, Seishirou noticed that this apartment was in a far worse state than the one he had acquired for his own. He had to fight his way through a mountain of rubble in the hall, the sitting room was completely gone—but the bedroom was still relatively accessible, and so was the bathroom. This had been a neat, bourgeois family, he decided when he checked the contends of cupboards and cabinets. There were two new tooth brushes, plasters, a tube of tooth paste, tape, iodine, bandages, sterile cotton in plastic, aspirin, a whole lot of pills, salves and powders for various aches and itches, a set of pincers and a pair of small scissors. He dumped the whole load on the bed, picking out what he thought he would need. It was a pity there was no sterilizing alcohol, but he would just have to do without it, or have a look in his new home's liquor closet. 

When he tugged out his shirt, the cloth stuck to his wound, and he hissed in pain when he pulled it loose. A thin stream of fresh blood trickled on his already soiled trousers before he caught it with a wad of sterilized cotton.

_And a good shot it was too, Subaru. Not too big, but very deep. You made me lose quite a lot of blood. How unlike you to actually hurt me._ Luckily he knew what to do with wounds like this, although he was used to treat them on animals, not humans and certainly not himself. It was a long time since he had been injured in any way. Making sure his hands were as clean as possible, he cleansed the wound with iodine, picked out pieces of cloth and dirt with the tweezers and carefully dressed it with the sterile bandage and tape. When he was finished, it made an uncomfortable lump, but at least it was treated rightly. And since he was here in the bedroom anyway he might just as well find some clean clothing too, if possible. There was a large closet against the wall, but when he opened it he could only find women's clothing. A pity—but there also was one of those overlarge sexless sweaters in the colour of the sea, which would do just nicely. Sighing with relief he disposed of his jacket, retrieved the few valuables out of its pockets—two black ofudas, his wallet and a pen—and donned the sweater. It did not even look bad on him. Seishirou smiled to the mirrored closet-door, practicing until the crook of pain smoothed out from the left corner of his mouth, combed his hair with his fingers and went back to his 'own' apartment.

*

The second time Arashi woke up it was again because somebody touched her bed, and she opened her eyes, thinking it was the doctor. But this was not the tiny shiver of a chart being removed, this was a real bump, and somebody almost fell onto her bed as she stumbled drunkenly against the foot of the bed.

"I'm sorry," a voice muttered, a voice Arashi recognized immediately.

"Karen!?" she cried, grabbing the woman by the wrist when she tried to get up, "Kasumi-san, is that you?" The woman looked back at her with too bright eyes. Like Arashi's her head was covered in bandages, but no hair showed, rendering her head small and her eyes incredibly huge. _Concussion_, Arashi thought, and reached out to steady her. "It's me, Kishuu Arashi." It _was_ Karen, and after a few blinks she also seemed to recognise Arashi.

"Arashi-chan…you…" She almost fell against the girl when she tried to hug her. "I thought we were the only ones…"

"We?" she shook her lightly. "Who are we? Are there more of us who survived?" Karen nodded, her eyes narrow with pain. _But she should be in bed, lying flat on her back, resting._ Yet she could not maker herself say that. "Who, Kasumi-san? Kamui?"

"No. I don't know whether he is still alive. Aoki is, though. He lies over there, at the far end of this room."

"He is here?" Vainly, she tried to see him, but there were too many people in between. Her back and cheeks throbbed painfully as she stretched her neck to get a better view. "I thought …I didn't see him yesterday."

"They only brought him in this morning, from the intensive care." She cast her eyes down. "They don't think he will make it through the night."

"No…" Karen nodded.

"He broke his back. Several places. They operated on him, and he's sedated…It's a miracle he lived so far. And he's conscious—I was on my way to speak to him."

"How did he get here, then? How did you get here?" She shrugged.

"I can't remember. It's not important now, is it?" Arashi wanted to tell her that it was very important, but one look at Karen's state made her decide differently. The Flower-hostess was in no condition to walk, let alone to care about how she got here. If anything, she had to be aided.

"I guess it isn't. Shall I help you to Aoki-san?" She was rewarded with a faded smile.

"Thank you. I'm sure he would love to see you too."

Aoki looked as if he had already died. There was no colour in his face but for his brown eyes, and they were almost black with his swollen pupils. 

"Aoki-san…" He turned his head a fraction of an inch in their direction and a soft smile broke out on his face.

"Karen-san. And…is that…our priestess?" Arashi nodded. She regretted the exercise: a burning pain flared in her back, her head was throbbing. But she was so glad to see the wind master she bit back the pain and returned his smile.

"Yes. I thought I was the only one who…who survived." Again she thought about Sorata, and she swallowed heavily. Karen gracefully collapsed on the edge of Aoki's bed, managing to make it appear that she just sat down. "And I can't even remember how I survived."

"Kusanangi," Seiichirou answered.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Kusanagi saved you. He was a dragon of earth, but he also was Yuzuriha-chan's friend. He detested the killing, and he managed to take you and Karen away…just after the explosion struck."

"But Yuzuriha is dead!" The name did ring a bell, though.

"I know." He was silent for a while. Suddenly Arashi realized why he looked so strange: he wasn't wearing his glasses. It made a big difference. He startled her when he continued, "He came back for me later…I…the explosion had thrown me against the building and…a part fell on top of me. He said that, though it was too late, he'd changed his mind. He said that if humanity had to go in this way it…it would be impossible to think that…the earth…where was I…?"

"If the earth is cleared of humans in this way," Karen took over, "it would not do the earth any good. She would be damaged so badly that she'd die anyway. Is that what he meant?" Aoki nodded, a minimal movement.

"Kusanagi told me…that he could hear plants and trees scream…it is all rather muddled I'm afraid, I was only half unconscious at the time…but he told me that his sole reason to join the Dragons of earth was to stop the butchering of the flora." His eyes turned inward. "It seems he was wrong. Half of Tokyo is gone, if he's right…and all the plants with it."

"I still can't believe it," Arashi whispered. "It's too big. Tokyo is too large just to be wiped away—and Hinoto's shields, ours weren't the only kekkais over there…"

"Look out of the window," Seiichirou suggested with that sad, strange smile of his. She nodded, walked to the window near his bed, looked out. Her knees turned to water, she had to grip the window sill to remain standing as she gazed out, disbelieving. The hospital stood at the edge of a crater. There were a few hundred meters of intact buildings, then…nothing. A smoking, dead nothingness.

"No. No, this is not true. This can't be true."

"It is," Karen murmured. "And it is our fault. We may have won, but whatever it was we won, we lost this. And nobody will cry for us when we die." Arashi turned around. Karen sagged against Aoki's chest, eyes closed, her complexion the same colour as her bandages. Seiichirou twitched his fingers as if to caress her shoulder, but his arm would not move. His voice had the same effect, however, when he said, "Of course somebody will. I told you I would cry for you, if you died. Although it will not be you dying."

"You won't either." Arashi said, throat constricted with tears. "Die. You made it too far to die here."

Again that smile.

"Arashi-san," He hesitated. Then he continued, "When Kusanagi took me to this place…we came…we past where I used to live. Where my wife and children live. It's gone. My house is gone. There is only a hole in the ground. They were in there, packing for a trip they were to take…today? I told them to go to America for a short time, to be safe. But it was too late…"

"I'm so sorry…" Those warm, sad eyes were calm as he said, "You shouldn't be. I'm not. It was some kind of fate, I guess. I know I'm dying, the surgeons didn't lie about that, but I don't care. It only…saddens me to leave Karen…like this." His fingers twitched again, and suddenly Arashi reached out and placed his hand on the woman's shoulder.

"I'll take care of her," she promised, squeezing his limp fingers in her own. "Whatever happens, I'll make sure nobody hurts her."

"Thank you," Seiichirou said, and closed his eyes. 

Four hours later he was dead.

2

Ueno Park was a wilderness. Uprooted trees and bushes lay everywhere, whole pieces of ground had just burst, scattered tiles everywhere, wiping the grass away, benches were spread over the ground and in the trees. Only one tree was still standing, its luster a travesty of life in the dead chaos. Seishirou stood in front of the sakura tree, his hands in his pockets, and examined it. At first notice there did not seem to be anything at all wrong with it, but when he placed his palm against its trunk 

**howling, howling, screaming**

he snatched his hand back as if burned. A thin sheen of perspiration covered his forehead. _What happened to you? Who cast this spell? For it must be a spell, and it must have been cast by someone. Not by Subaru, he wouldn't know how to cast such intricate and evil spells. I could have cast something alike…but who else could have done it? Is there perhaps another Onmyouji around…it must be an Onmyouji spell. It does not matter. How can I dispel it again?_

He walked all around the tree, pushing rubble out of his way with his foot. "_On_," he muttered, focusing his energy on the tree without opening a channel. A tide of swirling power surged at his tentative touch, his eyes grew warm with it. Seishirou frowned. It was as if the tree's awareness was fading, no, had already faded almost to nothing, as if…

_No._ He stared hard at the pink fluff of blossoms, contemplating his possibilities. There were terribly few, and he was too vulnerable without the sakura's power to ignore one, no matter how dangerous or unpleasant it would be. _Well, here goes, then._ He took his pen out of his pocket, stretched out his left hand and carefully drew a sign of protection on the back of his hand. Then he touched his first two fingers to the bark, inhaled deeply, steadying his breathing, and drew in the force of his family's heritage.

**screaming, screeching, howling, voices shouting themselves into existence**

He was inside the tree now, seeing it for what it really was: an entity with its own soul, feelings and cravings, but utterly inhuman; a place more than a presence, or maybe just a force, yes, a force made by hundreds and hundreds of human souls, fed by their blood, whose hunger had always led the Sakurazukamori on and on on their path of murder. He had been here before, long ago, when he had been injured in such a way that he would have died if he had not tapped from the tree's life force directly. This was different, though. In Seishirou's personal maboroshi it was always calm, the surroundings black, white and gray, with the tree the only colourful thing. Now, violent winds whipped the petals into his face and the tree shivered and almost bent to the ground in agony. Its ordinary hum of presence was replaced by a cacophony of voices, and Seishirou felt those voices tearing his protection apart. He could hardly look straight into its direction for the sweeping branches and petals, but what he could see filled him with disbelief.

_It is disintegrating._

_The tree…it's falling apart. The souls are…leaving?_

Shielding his face with his hands, he could make out other things beside the petals leaving this place. _It's true, they are leaving. Those who still have a bit of awareness are leaving… _Something hit his hand with the sign and he hastily broke contact. He found himself lying on the ground, gasping and covered with sweat, with a tearing ache in his side and a cold lodged so deep in his bones he began to shiver violently despite the fact that he knew it was only imaginary. 

"I seem to be having a problem," he said aloud, trying to be sunny, but he could not help groaning when he stood up, and his smile refused to appear when he twisted his mouth. Instead he only grimaced, and then he searched for a pointy twig in the heap of trees to draw with and set to work. There had to be some way to dispel this magic.

*

Subaru, head of the Sumeragi clan, Onmyouji and only surviving twin of the thirteenth generation, winced when the petite doctor probed at his shoulder. She told him to sit still and pressed harder. Subaru bit his lip. The fact that his arm was broken and not the shoulder did not mean it was nice to be poked in—he'd had enough poking these last two days. There were approximately twenty stitches spread all over his body of which fifteen in his head in various cuts, there was the break in his right wrist where Seishirou had simply snapped the bone, there were the bruises and strains and the chafes that had to be treated with the most stinging iodine he had ever seen; Subaru was tired of being cared for. It had been a mistake to tell who he was. He was sure a lot of people needed the attention more than he did, but whenever he opened his mouth to say so, a nurse told him to be quiet, or simply tugged at a bandage here or there with enough force to make him hiss in pain.

"You are too important to lose, Sumeragi-san," they told him patiently. "We need you, especially now, and we need you in good health."

The problem was that he was in relatively good health, although he did not know how he had survived the explosion and the major earthquake that had followed. The first time he looked out of the make-shift hospital he resided in, he could only stare, dumbfounded at the wreck of his city.

_How many kekkais were destroyed? Or more importantly, how many are still intact? Is Hinoto still alive? There must be more Seals left…only half of Tokyo is gone. O God, _only _half…_From the first hour that he was awake he began to search for the other Dragons of Heaven, but he found nothing, and now he still didn't know where the others were, if they had survived. But of course they could all be dead too, if Hinoto was still alive. She could be keeping the rest of the kekkais up. The uncertainty drove him crazy. In the beginning the doctor gave him pills that he thought were painkillers and took, but since they also enabled him to sleep nine hours a day besides the eight he slept at night, he suspected they were not painkillers at all. This morning he had spat them out when the nurse turned her back, and although his wounds hurt worse his mind was very clear and his fretting kept him awake long enough to search the entire hospital. He would have gone outside if a nurse had not grabbed him by the neck and drawn him back to bed, apologizing all the way.

Now it was evening, and this prodding could be the final stage to freedom.

"Does this hurt, Sumeragi-san?" Yes.

"Only a little."

"And this?" That also hurt.

"No, not at all."

"How is your head, Sumeragi-san?" It still throbbed along his stitches.

"Fine, thank you." She shone a little beam straight into his good eye, blinding him, but he kept his eye wide open and smiled encouragingly. It was a fake smile, and the doctor obviously knew that because she grunted disbelievingly.

"Very well," she said finally after listening to his breathing with her stethoscope, "we can't keep you here if you refuse to cooperate." Her tone told him clearly that she might believe that he was the head of his clan, but that, to her, he was mainly a patient who was too stupid to do what was good for him. Subaru shrugged. He did not care about her opinions. The doctor sighed. "So," she continued, "to be sure you are safe, we, that is, the politicians up high, have arranged a place where you can stay. It is close by, so if there are any complications we are close at hand."

"There is a room for me?" Subaru asked. He thought only those with political power would be qualified to charge a room in the still standing apartments. 

"Yes. It's about two blocks away from here."

"Why not a tent camp, like the other homeless?"

"Why, you are a Sumeragi. Anyway, they found you a room. For more information you should talk to the qualified people. A certain mister Ajimoshi is waiting for you in the hall. Whenever you are ready to leave…"

Half an hour later Subaru sat on a king-sized bed in a luxurious apartment, complete with a small bathroom with both bath and shower, a kitchenette, a bedroom and a sitting room with two chairs, a television and an audio set. He felt a bit dizzy. Apparently there were a lot of reasons apart from him being an Onmyouji that entitled him to the right of this room, only he did not understand half of them, thought most perfectly ridiculous and was convinced half of them were wrong. It did not matter. He was out of the hospital, relatively sound and ready to start looking for the rest. Because some of them had to be alive. 

_The Seals_, a nagging little voice whispered in the back of his head,_ yes, the Seals, but maybe HE is alive too. You did not see him die, after all. He could be alive, and if he is, would he not be looking for you as well? You are bound to him, just like you are bound to Kamui. Who do you want to find first, Subaru-kun? Who has priority, Kamui or Seishirou? _

*

"Let's try to find out who's still alive," Arashi suggested in an attempt to cheer Karen up a bit. The Flower hostess only looked back at her from the depths of her pillow. "We are, to start with. And…" she stopped. She did not have a clue about whom had survived. She did not even know who were dead for sure, apart from Aoki, Sorata and Yuzuriha.

"Maybe it would be more satisfying to count the dead on the other side," Karen said morosely. Arashi shrugged, but the other woman actually seemed interested, so she started, "I killed Nataku. I'm pretty sure it was dead before the explosion came."

"And I took care of Yuuto. It was a pity he was on the other side; he was a nice guy. I still don't understand why he wanted the people to die…maybe because he only liked people, never loved them."

"I thought he was in love with that deranged computer-whiz, what's her name, Satsuki?"

"I don't know. What about her, do you think she's dead too?"

"I'd like to think so. I still detest her for hurting Yuzuriha-chan. It's strange, isn't it, that most of the Dragons of Earth were in fact…if not likable, than at least…pleasant. I mean, Yuuto was pleasant enough when we met him…and Nataku…" She hesitated. "Do you know what was so strange when I killed Nataku? Its last words were 'daddy, help me, daddy.' It made me feel so, so sad. I wonder whom it meant." Karen gave a shallow nod.

"It was a pitiful creature. In fact, if I needed a reason to give up on humanity poor things like Nataku would do the trick. To force a human being to live a life like a thing, without emotions or feelings…that is nothing less than evil."

"But Satsuki was evil too. She didn't have any more feelings than Nataku—worse, she just didn't care."

"She was more like her computer than a human being. I hope she burned to death in it when the explosion struck."

"If she died, I think she died before that. Otherwise, wouldn't she have helped the others?"

"You have a point." Karen pushed herself up on one elbow, raising a finger. "But let's start at the beginning. Before all hell burst loose, Fuuma literally told us he killed that dreamgazer of theirs, to fulfill his wish." She ticked off a second finger. "Then, for sure, we know Nataku died, and Yuuto," A third finger. "Who's next?"

"Fuuma himself?"

"Unknown."

"And perhaps the most dangerous one apart from Fuuma,"

"Sakurazukamori."

"Yes. What do we know about him?"

"Subaru fought him. I don't know who won. I fear…"

"Subaru is stronger than we give him credit for. Probably stronger than any of us…but we are straying. Seishirou gets a question mark. Then, we know Kusanagi is safe and sound—and that makes seven."

"Of which three are definitely dead."

"Plus Satsuki. I'm convinced she's dead. I just know."

"Four then." They fell silent. Arashi drew patterns in the sheet.

_Four of them against millions of us._ She bit her lip when Karen's well-manicured, scratched hand took her own.

"More than half of them died," Karen said softly. "It may not seem like much of a comfort, but it's enough to make us winners, no matter who else is still alive."

"Seishirou could still destroy a kekkai if he wanted to."

"He could. But he won't. Because you see, if I understand him well, it was never his intention to wipe out humanity." Arashi raised her eyebrows.

"Not? But, what was he doing with the Dragons of Earth—he WAS a Dragon of Earth, I'm sure about that!"

"Oh yes, he was. But think about it, Arashi-chan. He's Sakurazukamori. He lives by killing. What would he do in a world without people? His kind succeeds by killing its predecessor—who would succeed him? His kind would die out, and they have always murdered ruthlessly to stay alive. Why would he be different?"

"Because of Subaru-san?"

"Precisely. Why did he not kill Subaru sooner? Because he was too strong? I don't think so."

"Do you mean he only was a Dragon of Earth because Subaru is a Dragon of Heaven? Like—like Kamui and Fuuma?" Karen nodded seriously.

"There are many parallels between the Dragons of Earth and Heaven. This one only seems logical. Yuzuriha was in love with Kusanagi—she told me once. I promised her not to tell any of you, but now…it doesn't matter anymore. It can only clarify now, and we need that. Yuzuriha and Kusanagi. Then there was that strange, horrible relation between Kamui and Fuuma, and finally the two sides of Onmyouji."

"Jin and Yang," Arashi whispered. 

"A balance," replied Karen. "In Onmyouji perhaps even more than in the rest of us. So, if Seishirou is still alive, I think Subaru is as well. How could it be different? They are perfect mirrors. How can a reflection survive without its original?"

*

Seishirou woke to raindrops falling on his face. _How can it be raining inside?_ He wondered groggily, but then he was fully awake and aware that he was still in the park, lying just outside the ring of symbols he had drawn on the ground. If he would turn his head, he could probably see them radiating a pale light, but he was so tired that turning his head seemed to much of a bother.

_No._

He turned his head.

_You are NEVER too tired to move._

There was no light. The rain or time had extinguished it.

_You have to get up. NOW._

With difficulty he propped himself up on his elbows. He was alarmed at his weakness and the pain in his side, but most of all at the effect of his spells. There was no effect. The Tree was still falling apart inside.

_And you will die if you stay out in this rain for much longer._ His clothes were damp already, his hair stuck to his forehead. The rain stung in his eyes when he looked up; he had lost his glasses somewhere in the fight.

_Stop dawdling, Sei-san. You don't have time to be dramatic and stand in the rain like a love-sick romantic._ Just as he turned around, it struck him like thunder. Something Subaru had said, just before Seishirou found his power blocked. No, not something _Subaru _had said. "No, Sei-san." The only one who ever called him Sei-san was…Hokuto.

He turned back to face the tree, mind racing. It made sense. It made perfect sense. He gave a short bark of a laugh. Little, vibrantly alive Hokuto, object of devotion for the Dream gazer Kakyou; Hokuto, MacDonald addicted Sumeragi-twin; sacrificing, _dead_ Hokuto had given her life in exchange for her brother's, and she had used that life to complete the spell that would end the gathering force of the sakura tree. She must have found that spell in books entirely unsuitable for her or her brother—it was the kind of magic her side of Onmyoujitsu never used. At least, not as far as he knew. On the other hand wasn't it a spell his kind would ever perform either. Sacrifice was something that was uncommon in Sakurazukamori history.

"And with it, she trapped me. She took away my power without taking my life." 

And as he stood in the rain, staring at the lush but falling cloud of petals, he wondered if it had not been better if he had died in the final battle. For how could he ever change what he had been all his life?

__

To be continued


End file.
